


How the Shadow Taught the Emperor to Live

by ptw30



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AkaKuroValentine2016, Akashi #72, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluffity Fluff Fluff, M/M, Sleepovers, Teikou Era, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 01:34:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5987635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For AkaKuroValentine2016: As an heir who will one day inherit an international conglomerate, Akashi Seijuro has very little freedom. He cannot go anywhere without his driver. His movements at home are monitored by the maid and concierge. He can't even attend a sleepover because it would require permission his father will not give. Then perhaps it is fate--or just plain luck--that one of his friends has a weak presence and a kind heart, and is willing to prove to him that Swedish Fish and cheeseburgers and water balloon fights are not things to be feared but rather integral parts of this funny thing called "life."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vanilla Popsicles, Cheeseburgers, and a Movie

Akashi was fading away. 

As someone who was frequently overlooked and faded into the background, Kuroko noticed. Akashi switched his normal seat at lunch. Where he used to sit between Midorima and Murasakibara and across from Kuroko, he now claimed the seat at the end of the table—next to the oblivious Aomine and across from Midorima, who probably wouldn’t notice anything amiss unless Akashi was carrying the wrong lucky item. 

Murasakibara might have noticed something, but Aomine would keep him occupied, stealing from his plate with a total disregard for his own life. It was the perfect set-up…if only Kuroko was across from Murasakibara and Kise was across from Aomine, effectively keep Kuroko and his top observations away from Akashi. 

But Kuroko took his normal spot and saw Akashi’s quiet demeanor as the red-haired captain picked at his packed bento—probably made by the Akashi Family Michelin-starred chef—and only added to the conversation when prompted directly. 

At practice, Akashi sat off to the side, making notes on his clipboard. He usually took part in practice, performing drill after drill with a radiant smile that always made Kuroko want to return it. They all loved basketball—even Murasakibara, despite his constant complaints—but Akashi enjoyed it almost as much as Aomine. It was his escape from the pressure of his overbearing father and the corporate kingdom he would one day inherit, but today, his smile was absent, a transparent frown etched upon that mask Akashi wore to hide. 

But from what? 

Kuroko refused to let the shadows lay claim to Akashi and deflected the ball during a play, sending it soaring toward their distracted captain. 

“Akashi!” Aomine yelled in warning, but it was unnecessary. Akashi caught it smack between his hands, just before the ball would have hit his nose. 

“Kuroko, were you trying to get my attention?” Akashi furled an inquisitive eyebrow, to which Kuroko shrugged. 

“Perhaps if Akashi would be so kind, he could grace us with his presence upon the court.”

“Is Midorima not granting you enough of a challenge?”

Midorima let out something that sounded suspiciously like a growl as he pushed up his glasses, but Kuroko barely glanced his way. “Perhaps Midorima-kun would provide a challenge if he could touch the ball, but he has yet to this game.”

Kise squealed with giggles, while Aomine snickered. Akashi, however, rose to the challenge, that daring smirk finding his face as he walked onto the court, ominous thumps of the basketball echoing throughout the gym with each dribble through his legs. As he approached Kuroko, he appeared giddy—or as giddy as he ever seemed. 

“Three-on-three, I take it?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll give you both Kise and Aomine.”

Kuroko felt the twin demon smiles growing upon his best friends’ faces over his head, but he wiped them clean with one question. “Why do I have to be at a disadvantage?”

Aomine sounded like he choked on his own spit while Kise sniffled, probably on the verge of fake tears. Kuroko ignored them both as Akashi replied easily, “Because you proposed the game, Kuroko, and I never lose.”

“Prove it.”

He did. Despite Kise and Aomine’s hard rebounds and flashy moves, Murasakibara, Midorima, and Akashi beat them by a decent but respectable margin. Still, it was an odd game. Akashi barely scored, even when he beat his opponent (mainly Kuroko), and where Akashi could end the drive or sometimes the match, he decided to pass or pull up, prolonging what usually would be quick games. 

But the game ended eventually—with a three-pointer by Midorima from behind the three-point line. 

Akashi threw a towel to Kuroko, who blinked when it hit his face. “Thank you, Kuroko.” Akashi offered a brief but sincere bow. “I enjoyed our match.”

“Best two out of three?” Kuroko asked, returning the bow. 

Akashi’s smile wavered, but Kuroko doubted anyone but him would have noticed. “Don’t you all have dinner and—”

“What! No, we’re playing!” Aomine shouted, hand palming Kuroko’s head before sending a scowling glance at Kise. “And this time, Tetsu’s passes are meant all for me, Kise!”

“What? Kurokocchi loves passing to me!”

“You? Why would Tetsu want to pass to a second-rate, copycat excuse for a—” 

Kuroko peeked out from under his curtain of bangs to meet Akashi’s amused gaze, but then Akashi snatched his sleeve, tugging Kuroko out from Aomine’s grip. “Perhaps Kuroko would like to pass to me and Murasakibara. Midorima, would you mind playing with Aomine and Kise?”

“Yes,” came the callous reply. 

“Oi! You bastard!”

“Oh, come on, Midorimacchi! It’ll be fun!”

Kuroko whispered as they started to line up for the next game, “Why Murasakibara? We’ll need Midorima’s shots in order to—”

“We’re the shortest two members on the team, Kuroko.” He nodded toward the towering Murasakibara. “We need the tallest.”

Kuroko knew better than to question Akashi. After all, they destroyed Midorima, Kise, and Aomine by double digits. 

As it was Friday night, they managed to coerce Akashi into another handful of games, though Akashi, of course, didn’t lose one. As they headed home, Momoi-san in tow, a lone light shone from the third floor of the school. Kuroko wanted to dismiss it—the games had been intensely fun and equally grueling—but the student council office was lit. They’d left late on a Friday before, and Akashi always left moments after them. Midorima had even asked once, and uncharacteristically, Akashi shrugged. 

“There is no work on a Friday evening that cannot be done on a Saturday morning.”

Friday night seemed to be Akashi’s reprieve, his one night for himself…but then why was he still at school?

“Go on without you?” Aomine echoed. “Tetsu, I’m not sure you can walk by yourself after that practice.”

Kuroko wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or appreciative, but he didn’t have to choose as he saw the lights of Akashi’s idling car just beyond the Teikou gates. “Thank you for your concern, but Akashi-kun will give me a ride home. See you tomorrow.” 

He headed back into the school before Aomine could sputter off another rebuff, and what he found alarmed him more than anything he’d seen on campus. Akashi—surrounded by glitter pens and magic markers. There were stickers and cray paper and large poster, and they littered each of the student council officers’ desk while Akashi worked diligently—without his blazer or tie, which lay across the back of his chair. 

“Akashi-kun?”

Akashi’s head snapped up; a pale shade of pink darkened his cheeks. “Kuroko. I thought you went home with the rest of the team.”

“And I thought you were going home, too.” He came forward, eyes running over the posters. They weren’t for Akashi, who would win presidency for a third year by a landslide, but for Midorima and a few other second-year students who were running for office positions. “Akashi-kun, why aren’t you going home?”

Akashi went back to his poster-making, glitter pen swiping over the first m in Midorima’s name. “I have a few more signs to make here, and then there’s some paperwork I need to finish up before—”

“Akashi-kun, why aren’t you going home?” he repeated, and perhaps only Akashi could hear the stern question in his voice. 

Akashi put down his glitter pen before sitting back in his chair, shocking Kuroko with his open expression. “There is no one there. My father has been heading down to Kyoto on Friday mornings to jump start the opening of the southern headquarters.”

“And he’ll be back later tonight?” 

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“Hm.” 

Kuroko thought of his own parents and grandmother, waiting for him at home in their tiny apartment, holding dinner until he returned. Ever since his youngest days, someone always greeted him at home after school, never allowing their warm apartment to go cold. And yet, Akashi wanted to stay at school rather than return to his lonely and empty apartment. 

Kuroko wouldn’t allow that, on a Friday no less, and pulled out his phone to text. “You’ll come to my house tonight.”

Akashi’s pale cheeks darkened considerably. “Thank you, Kuroko, but it is unnecessary. I’m going to finish up here and—”

“—and your driver wishes to go home relatively early on a Friday, I’m sure. It would be best to let him.”

Akashi bowed his head, letting out a sigh, and pushed to your feet. “Perhaps you are right. Thank you, Kuroko.”

Kuroko opened his text app. “I’ll let my parents know. I’m sure my mother won’t mind making tofu—”

“Thank you for the offer, but I cannot come to your house tonight.” Akashi placed the markers back in his desk draw and began to stack the posters one atop of another. “Driver knows I need to ask permission, and I cannot call my father for it tonight.”

“All right.” The answer came too easy. “Then I’ll go to your house.”

“Again, I will need to ask permission.”

“Will you?”

Akashi stopped, ready to rebuke, before sharing a conspiratorial smile with Kuroko. “Perhaps not.”

When they exited the building, Kuroko allowed Akashi to go first. The captain bowed to his driver, apologized for the delay, and climbed inside. Once the door shut and Driver proceeded around the back of the car to place Akashi’s backpack in the trunk, Kuroko came to Akashi’s door and settled behind the passenger’s seat. He was effectively hidden from Driver save his shoes, but Kuroko could easily use his misdirection and weak presence to avoid being caught. 

But the door shutting a second time made a noise, and Driver glanced back at Akashi in the rear-view mirror once he sat down. “Everything all right, Akashi-sama?”

“I thought I saw a lonely cat upon the sidewalk but my mistake. Thank you for your concern.”

Kuroko took out his phone and texted, _You’re the lonely cat._

Akashi almost laughed. _And yet I’m taking you home._

_Then please take care of me._

_Of course._

When they stopped before Akashi’s place, Kuroko used the Driver’s brief stop at the trunk to disembark. He simply walked a few feet away from the opening of the luxury housing complex and gaped at the affluent building. It rivaled some of the tallest skyscrapers in Tokyo with a sparkling glass front, a keypad entrance, and an elegant lobby, complete with a uniformed concierge who took custody of Akashi once he entered through the sliding doors. Driver returned to his car while Concierge and Akashi disappeared into the elevator. 

Kuroko waited patiently, not worried in the upscale section of Shinjuku, though it had grown cold and dark in the evening hours. He almost began to think Akashi might have forgotten him when Concierge returned and took his place behind the desk once more. A few moments later, the phone rang, and Concierge left his post in a hurry, dashing through the front doors of the building. Akashi, now dressed in Adidas pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt, waved to Kuroko from the elevator, and after a glance at Concierge’s back, Kuroko raced through the open doors. He slammed against the back of the elevator, huffing as the lift rocketed toward the penthouse. 

“Akashi-kun watches too many spy movies.”

“I believe you came up with this idea, Kuroko.”

Kuroko shrugged. “What did you say to Concierge-san to make him leave?”

Akashi mirrored the motion. “Nothing. I simply called Kimura-san—she lives in the apartment below my father’s—and said it was unfortunate that I saw her dog on the street. I would have tried to find Jingles myself, but Driver wanted to drop me off. She must have called Concierge.”

“You are quite devious, Akashi-kun.”

“Aren’t you the one who keeps shoving Aomine’s dirty gym clothes in Midorima’s locker?”

“It is unusual for you to pass rumors, Akashi-kun.” 

“Your secret is safe with me, but it was Momoi-san who told me.”

Kuroko sighed. She would want something for her silence, no doubt, but before he could decide on an adequate bribe, the elevator doors opened to a stunning view of the glistening skyscrapers, illuminated by office lights and the moon’s glow. The floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the entire living area, which was modern and upscale with plush furniture and a gas fireplace, and Kuroko felt awkward entering. Akashi’s apartment was a sharp contrast to his own modest living with his parents and grandmother. 

“Sorry for intruding,” Kuroko muttered as he slipped off his shoes and found the guest slippers waiting for him to the right. 

“It’s fine. Would you like something to drink?”

Akashi’s voice sounded rushed, though he remained cool and aloof, so Kuroko glanced over his shoulder. “Akashi-kun, have you ever had a sleep-over before?”

Akashi’s gaze never wavered, his rich crimson eyes vulnerable in every way. “My father is very busy and generally not able to give permission for such frivolous activities.”

The bitter edge in his voice was noticeable, but Kuroko dismissed it. “Then we have a lot of time to make up for. Akashi-kun, will you lend me some clothing? We’ll also need a laptop and a few blankets. And where is the kitchen? I’ll get the food.”

Akashi lead Kuroko to the bright, modern eatery, but it was terribly understocked with a few gallons of pre-made tofu soup, fresh vegetables and fruits, and bottled water. Well, this would not do. By the time he made back it to the living room, Akashi had set up the laptop on the coffee table and placed the blankets on the couch. He handed Kuroko a pair of shorts, a T-shirt, and socks.

“Did you warm up the tofu soup?” Akashi sounded terribly excited, but that just wouldn’t do. There wasn’t much Aomine was right about, but he was right about this: Sleepovers needed junk food. 

Before Kuroko could reply, the elevator opened, and Concierge walked in, carrying two bags of Maji Burgers and a tray with two drinks. “Akashi-sama, I do believe there has been a mistake. A delivery gentleman said you placed an order with his establishment. A Maji Burger, as it were.”

Absolute disgust echoed in his voice. 

Akashi glanced at Kuroko, who nodded. “There was no mistake, Concierge-san,” Akashi replied. “I was hungry and ordered out. Thank you for your diligence.” 

Concierge, of course, did not see Kuroko as he handed the offending items to Akashi. “Yes, well, I am not sure your father will approve of such…food, if that is what it can be called, but enjoy your … _dinner._ ” 

After Concierge left, Kuroko began to change, though a scheming smile found his lips. “Annoyed at least one adult—check.”

“Is there a list?”

“Yes. Junk food—check.” Kuroko watched as Akashi lifted up the chocolate milkshake from the tray and took a tentative sip. Appreciation burst through his once passive expression, prompting Kuroko to motion toward the computer after a sip of his own vanilla drink. “Movie—check. Blankets for makeshift bed in middle of living room—check.”

“Are we’re missing anything?”

“Vanilla popsicles,” Kuroko said without hesitation and settled cross-legged on the blankets once he laid them on the floor. “But this is your first sleepover, so I will excuse the horrendous oversight this once.”

Akashi laughed, a true and pleasurable sound that Kuroko enjoyed, and fell to the floor next to Kuroko. 

There was an easiness to their presence, a comfort that transcended the team’s usual camaraderie. While Akashi was their captain and seemed to keep a certain distance between himself and the rest of Teikou, Kuroko never truly accepted that. Aomine once said it was because Akashi was super rich and didn’t want to get close to the lesser mortals, but Midorima believed Akashi was responsible for the betterment of the team and never wanted to get close to them, in case he needed to demote or cut a member. Kise believed Akashi just wasn’t close to anyone, while Murasakibara proved that theory inaccurate. 

But Kuroko never knew exactly what to think—until now. Akashi’s upbringing never allowed him to be close to anyone. In fact, he probably didn’t know how to be, and the Teikou Basketball Club was the closest anyone was to Akashi Seijuro. 

Except Kuroko. When Akashi saw him that day in the gym, eyeing him with such fascination, Kuroko’s own interest piqued at this obviously good-looking and intelligent peer. There was something mysterious and foreboding about Akashi Seijuro, but his mystique and gentle-nature were more than alluring. Even now, as they opened their Maji Burger bags and watched the movie, a nagging excitement sparkled in Kuroko’s stomach, jolts of anticipation that he tried futilely to ignore, especially when Akashi watched him take a sip of his vanilla milkshake with such intense concentration. 

“You are quite addicted to vanilla, aren’t you?” Akashi chuckled. 

Kuroko shrugged, enjoying a rather long sip of his milkshake, before replying. “I tend to look at it as a healthy obsession.”

“Is there such a thing?”

“Says the captain, president, and leader of every club he’s ever been in.”

“Are you saying I’m addicted to power?”

“I’m saying I’m not the only one who has an obsession.”

Akashi’s demeanor grow serious then, and he dropped his half-eaten cheeseburger to its wrapper. “It is my family’s way. We win at everything, excel in everything. I do not know how to do anything but.”

Kuroko could not ignore the opportunity. “Except for sleepovers. I had to provide the junk food, instructions, movies, and I do not believe we annoyed Concierge enough to have really checked that item off the list. In the every sense of epic sleepovers, you have failed quite epic-ly.”

Akashi conceded with a bow and a beginning smirk. “Then teach me, Kuroko-sensei.”

They couldn’t risk ordering more junk food, so Kuroko decided that would have to wait for another week. However, they did use Kuroko’s phone to call Concierge and pretend to be Akashi’s father, scolding the older man for allowing his son burgers and fries, of all food. They switched Masaomi’s shampoo with his conditioner—though Akashi, himself, almost had a heart attack while Kuroko did the actually switching—and they eventually put on a rated R-movie, which neither were allowed to see but decided to watch anyway. Instead of being energized by their disobedience, they both figured out the killer within the fifteen minutes of the movie, traded notes, and promptly passed out before two A.M. 

They awoke the next morning to the maid pulling back the curtains, tsking when Akashi hissed and Kuroko burrowed farther into his blankets. If there had been enough room under the couch, Kuroko would have rolled underneath it. 

But the maid, like most people, overlooked his weak presence. “You should know better than to sleep on the floor, Akashi-sama,” she berated with fond exasperation. “Your father would fire me if he knew of such foolishness. Now you better get up. You have morning basketball practice in less than an hour.”

“Yes, thank you, Maid-san. I appreciate your concern. Would you please fix me some breakfast?” 

Akashi’s hair stuck in a hundred different directions, and Kuroko was glad the blankets covered his face. After all, the hairstyle was adorable, and he wouldn’t have minded waking up to it a few more times. 

“Of course,” Maid replied with a sweet smile, “but don’t dawdle in the shower, or you’ll never make it on time.” 

“Yes, thank you.”

As soon as she retreated into the kitchen, Kuroko threw off his covers and headed into the bathroom, Akashi following behind with a fresh change of clothes for them. Kuroko took to the shower first as he was the first one inside, and when he held out his hand for his borrowed clothes, he felt nothing but air. He finally stuck out his head, only to see Akashi brushing his teeth, oblivious to Kuroko’s needs while the towel and fresh clothes hung on a rack a few feet away. 

“Akashi-kun?” Kuroko called once, twice, but he couldn’t turn off the water for fear of the maid listening. “Akashi-kun?” He tried again but to no avail. Sighing, he resigned himself to his fate and tip-toed out of the shower to snatch the towel, but not before meeting Akashi’s amused eyes in the mirror. 

“Akashi-kun is a pervert,” Kuroko spat, cheeks inflamed and his stomach doing that annoying little tug again. 

Akashi’s cheeks also burned, but he looked smug, satisfied. “I do believe this nominates me for the Epic Sleepover Awards.”

Kuroko hmphed and toweled off, making sure not to get uncovered again until Akashi stepped behind the shower curtain. 

Of course, he waited for Akashi to come out, sitting on the edge of the bathroom vanity, ready for his own viewing session when Akashi shut off the shower and exited—in a pair of briefs. 

“Akashi-kun is not playing fair,” Kuroko pouted. 

Akashi laughed. “I play to win. That’s not always fair.”

Akashi took his breakfast to go, sharing half with Kuroko on the way to school, and once they were on Teikou grounds and away from wandering ears, Akashi snagged Kuroko with a tug on his wrist. 

“That was…fun, Kuroko. Thank you for an entertaining evening.”

Kuroko felt an unconscious but not unwanted grin overtake his face, and he offered a dip of the head. “I enjoyed it as well. Perhaps we can do again in the future.”

Akashi’s smile remained, but his eyes shifted. He didn’t believe they could. “Yes, let’s.”

And so on the following Friday, Kuroko stumbled into the Teikou basketball club room dragging three bags—a book bag, gym bag, and a night bag. 

“Hey, Tetsu, you staying at my house tonight?” Aomine asked as he reached inside his locker for a shirt, only to find it missing. “Whah! Where’s my stuff?”

Midorima pushed up his glasses, his face stone cold and reserved, yet Kuroko saw him fuming behind the calm façade. “Dirty clothes should be cleaned, Ahomine, not left to stew in another person’s locker.”

“Eh? I kept my clothes in mine.”

“Then how did they find their way into mine?”

“I don’t know, but what did you do with them, huh? I need them for practice!”

Something prickled on the back of Kuroko’s neck, and he turned to find Akashi smirking at him, sharing this innocent secret. 

“You threw them out!” Aomine howled. “How am I supposed to practice today?”

Akashi stepped forward now, his face the epitome of seriousness even as his eyes danced. “Midorima, lend Aomine one of your outfits today for practice.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“You should not have thrown out Aomine’s clothes, despite where they may have ended up.”

“Ha!” Aomine shouted. 

“But you should take your clothes home to clean, Aomine. So today, you will run your laps without shoes to remind you of that fact.”

With a growl, Midorima pulled out his extra outfit and threw it to Aomine. “You better return it clean.”

Aomine, however, just sniffed it. “Hm. Smells like pine. You must have washed it at least once this week, huh?”

Midorima looked like he was about to pass out from disgust. 

Kuroko, however, shared a silent laugh with Akashi before they headed out to the court together. That night, they left the court together as well. 

_To Be Continued..._


	2. The Lark Ascending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, Akashi #72! You like romance, angst, hurt/comfort, humor, and mystery within the Teikou timeline. Thanks for allowing me to write this. I had a lot of fun discovering Teikou!Akashi and Teikou!Kuroko, something I’d never really had the pleasure of exploring before. I hope you enjoy!

The third week, Kuroko and Akashi moved their sleepover festivities into Akashi’s bedroom, which was arguably bigger than Kuroko’s entire apartment. The room—well, the _chambers,_ really—included a living area, a large sleeping area, and an en-suite bathroom, boasting an elegant décor in sky blue and white trim, white oak, and marble tile. Somewhere between teasing Akashi about his insane bedhead, which rivaled his own, and finding out Akashi kept a stash of Swedish Fish under his bed for late-night snacking, Kuroko stopped being awestruck by Akashi’s wealth and prestigious and started being comfortable among the golden fixtures and antique furniture. 

(Along with that Swedish Fish was also a generous stack of adventure manga, hidden by large stacks of classical literature, which Akashi also read but less fervently.) 

But something in particular caught Kuroko’s attention that night—an oblong hard instrument case sitting unobtrusively upon Akashi’s arm chair. Curiosity got the better of him, and he unclipped the locks and opened the case to see an elegant four-stringed instrument with a wooden top and a matching bow. It appeared old but cared for impeccably, the rosin dust wiped clean from the varnish and not allowed to fuse. 

The door to the bathroom clicked open, drawing Kuroko’s attention, but he was too astounded to be embarrassed. 

“You play the violin?” 

Akashi blinked and stopped drying his hair, instead laying the towel about his neck. “Yes. For many years now. It was something my father insisted.”

Kuroko wanted to keep his face neutral, but his disdain showed in his terse voice and dark expression. “Is there anything your father does not insist?” 

“He does not approve of me playing basketball,” Akashi chuckled as he threw his towel into his hamper and approached Kuroko, smiling absently, “but as long as we win, he will allow me a frivolous whim.”

“You love basketball,” Kuroko insisted. 

Akashi nodded, snapping the case shut. “Yes, but it is not essential to the continued success of my family’s business.”

“Your mental health is very essential.”

A sad but fleeting smile crossed Akashi’s face. “I’m glad you think so.”

When Akashi lifted the case to put it away, Kuroko placed a hand upon Akashi’s and was shocked by the intense heat of it. “Will you play for me?”

Akashi blinked but didn’t shake off Kuroko’s hand. “The violin is not the most…interesting of instruments, Kuroko. Perhaps you would rather we watch another movie—”

Kuroko’s own voice surprised him with its earnest reply, “Please.”

Akashi’s eyes questioned his sincerity, but ultimately he conceded, gesturing for Kuroko to sit in the armchair the violin had previously occupied. With flushed cheeks and a closed expression, Akashi situated himself less than ten feet away and lifted the violin under his chin. After a short but noticeable breath, Akashi closed his eyes, and the strings began to sing.

The melody started with quick movements of the bow, intimidating the sound of what Kuroko assumed was flying before slowing in tempo but rising in pitch, sounding like soaring. The music became playful and quick, like the flapping of wings, and though Kuroko wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and drown in the lovely melody, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Akashi’s elegant form. 

Akashi didn’t create music. He _was_ the music.

His nimble fingers danced upon the strings, his bow fluid as it slid across the instrument’s body, and Kuroko enjoyed the intimate moments upon Akashi’s face. Absolute pleasure shone through his usual stoic features, mixing delight and exhilaration as he lost himself in the quick finger work and romantic sound. 

Kuroko, too, found himself swept away in the enchanting melody, and it lured him to his feet. Akashi’s eye lifted then, their crimson mesmerizing with its glistening intensity, and then he dipped to the right. As if tied by some invisible cord, Kuroko dipped to the left, and they twirled. They twirled upon the balls of their feet, the rhythm flourishing their invisible bond, but Kuroko could neither stop nor look away. His and Akashi’s souls touched and intertwined, fueled by the graceful movements and poetic melody, and when Akashi’s violin finally silenced, both were breathless but smiling, euphoric from their ethereal connection. 

Kuroko bowed, his smile never wavering. “Thank you…Seijuro-kun.”

Akashi bowed as well, perhaps even more deeply than Kuroko had. “It was my pleasure…Tetsuya-kun.”

*^*^*

When Kuroko retreated to the bathroom for his shower, Akashi collapsed back onto his bed, spent both physically and emotionally, and unsure why. He found his eyes traveling back to his end table, where he kept a framed picture of his mother. She was smiling and radiant, and he missed her deeply. 

He wasn’t sure why he agreed to play for Kuroko and was even less certain why he played “The Lark Ascending,” his mother’s favorite song, but he couldn’t deny the feeling of his own soul fluttering and then soaring as he danced with Kuroko or the sudden urge to play the song again, for only the second time since his mother’s passing. 

*^*^* 

Kuroko thought nothing of going into Akashi’s kitchen during their seventh sleepover. Though he’d come to know the third door on the left was off-limits, as it was Masaomi’s quarters—and apparently, Maid was scolded severely for the shampoo-conditioner switcheroo—he knew the second door on the right was the linen closet, where he could find the softest towels imaginable. He knew the TV in the living area took a whole three seconds to turn on after pressing the remote button, and he knew the maid came to wake Akashi every Saturday at promptly 8:15. (So he always made a point to be in the bathroom at that time.) 

He knew where the pots were to reheat tofu soap and where the bowls were to hold it. He knew where to flip on and off the Wi-Fi connection and that the password was Yukimaru1220. He knew about the manga and Swedish Fish, about the shogi boards and beni shoga (or lack thereof). 

And he knew that in the freezer, crusted with ice, would always be a box of vanilla popsicles, refreshed by the maid every Friday morning. 

*^*^*

After two solid months of sneaking around, Kuroko found himself blindsided one Friday, waiting just around the bend of Teikou’s gates as Driver held the car door open. He couldn’t see Driver’s face, but he heard the man’s amused voice when he asked Akashi, “Will Kuroko-kun be joining us today like a proper passenger, or would you rather he sneak inside the backseat as per usual?”

Kuroko wasn’t sure who gaped more—he or Akashi. 

Driver leaned upon the door, shooting a fond grin toward Kuroko as he came about the gate. “I was trained by the emperor’s own guards. I shall hope that I would not be outsmarted by a pair of fourteen-year-olds.”

Akashi looked positively devastated—no, worse. He looked downright scared, face blanched, eyes trembling, hands fists on his knees. Kuroko saw the question hanging in his eyes—what would he be forced to give up for such a disobedience? Surely basketball would be the first to go if not his ability to talk or even interact with Kuroko or any of his friends. Despite his closed-off demeanor, Akashi had managed to gather a circle of friends that were indispensable to him. 

_A family,_ Kuroko would even go as far as to say. One that actually cared for Akashi if the latest hair tassels from Aomine, the squeezing hugs from Kise, and the shared homework sessions with Midorima were any indications. 

Kuroko bowed to the gentleman, as deep as necessary. He almost thought about falling to his knees but decided against it. “We are sorry for deceiving you, Driver-san. Please do not inform Akashi-san. He—”

“—does not pay me to snitch on his son but to keep him safe,” Driver interrupted, drawing Kuroko’s eyes northward. He was smiling. “I checked you out that first weekend you were waiting on the sidewalk, Kuroko Tetsuya-kun. Second year, basketball small forward, member of the library committee with decent grades—neither poor nor extraordinary good. Your father works as an editor for a magazine while your mother is a teacher. You also live with your grandmother who is suffering from dementia.” He motioned toward the backseat of the car. “I see a friend of Akashi-sama, not a security threat. Please get in the car.” 

The stark honesty coupled with the earnest request sent a wave of relief through Kuroko, and he bowed again, uttering a very sincere, “Thank you very much, Driver-san,” before taking a seat next to Akashi.

Akashi said nothing, however, seemingly “broken” in a way. He stared straight ahead, eyes round and so very, very fearful. Though his body no longer shuddered, he appeared lost, because they’d been discovered or he’d been outplayed by his security detail, Kuroko couldn’t tell. 

Or Driver’s innocent action had actually broken Akashi, who was so frightened of being caught that he wasn’t sure how to react. So Kuroko placed a gentle hand upon one of Akashi’s fists, like his own mother did every time he had a nightmare, and clasped it tightly, securely, as if to say, _It’s okay. You’re allowed to have friends. You’re allowed to enjoy life. You’re allowed to have sleepovers and manga and Swedish Fish, and you shouldn’t have to hide them. It’s okay, really. I’m here to make it so._

And finally, finally, Akashi’s hand melted of tension, and he let out an infinitesimal sigh. The smile was forced, but Kuroko accepted it nonetheless. 

Concierge ruined all Kuroko’s hard work, however. Akashi almost had a panic attack when Concierge smiled at them both as they entered the lobby and bowed with a steaming hot box in his hands. “Akashi-sama, Kuroko-kun, welcome home. I took the liberty of ordering you a pizza. I hope this satisfies tonight’s junk food requirement, and may I suggest the newest _Paranormal Activity_ movie? It is to be quite frightening…” _but not too frightening,_ he added over their heads in a whisper to Driver. 

Driver approved. 

Akashi sucked in awkward breath after awkward breath in the elevator, seemingly unable to come to terms with so many people knowing he had disobeyed his father. Kuroko physically hurt, wondering how someone could ever think pizza and a movie were so horrible, and though Akashi stayed quiet most of that evening, he didn’t stop Kuroko from joining him the next Friday or the one after that or the one after that. 

*^*^*

“How—How?” Kuroko uncharacteristically stuttered, holding the book between his shaking fingers. His shimmering eyes lifted to meet Akashi’s indulgent ones. 

They sat across each other on the living room floor, Akashi having suggested they camp out like they did during their first sleepover. Concierge ordered them Maji Burger—Akashi listened to Aomine’s constant ravings about the Teriyaki Burger and asked the gentleman to get him one—and they ate discussing assignments and hobbies, practice and friends. Eventually, Akashi slid a wrapped gift across the table, and when Kuroko opened it, he gasped at the sight of the newly printed book. 

“This—This isn’t scheduled to come out for another month.” Kuroko’s voice shook with delight. 

Akashi’s smile deepened until his cheeks indented. “The publisher’s part of my father’s business portfolio, and I saw the editor a few weeks ago at a gala. When he mentioned a new volume of your favorite series was coming out, I asked him to send me an advanced copy.” He shrugged. “It was nothing.”

By that barely noticeable blink in those warm crimson eyes, Kuroko knew Akashi lied. He hadn’t just remembered Kuroko’s favorite book series and met the editor during a gala. He’d researched the series, found the editor, and then sought the gentleman out during the gala, Kuroko could tell. 

For one of the first times, Kuroko found himself at a loss for words. “Thank you,” just wouldn’t be enough, especially for Akashi Seijuro, the prince of the Japanese corporate world, even if Akashi was pleased with himself. He picked up his chocolate milkshake for a satisfied sip, those pale lips closing upon the straw, and Kuroko found himself swallowing with every bob of Akashi’s throat. 

Akashi blinked, caught off guard by Kuroko’s suddenly intense gaze, but Kuroko wasn’t thinking, wasn’t processing, only reacting as he leaned forward, ready to grab the milkshake cup and replace the straw with his own cool lips—

—when the elevator opened.

Akashi Masaomi walked down the tiny step into the living space, thumb scrolling up his phone. Akashi’s eyes went frighteningly wide, sharing a brief glance with Kuroko, before his entire attention directed to Masaomi. He stood instantly, bowing in absolute reverence of his father, who glanced up for a brief instant, then back to his phone, and then back at Akashi. 

“Seijuro, is there something fascinating about eating like the impoverished?”

Akashi rose then, back impeccably straight. “I wanted to be closer to my laptop while eating, Father.”

“Is there something wrong with your eyesight?”

“No, Father.”

“You know how I feel about streaming videos.”

“Yes, Father.”

“It is a waste of valuable studying time, Seijuro.”

“I am aware, Father. Was there a problem in Kyoto?”

“Hm.” Masaomi walked away without another word, disappearing down the apartment’s hallway, attention directed once toward his phone. Akashi remained completely still, shoulders square, chin raised, eyes focused on where his father last stood. 

Kuroko barely breathed, lightheadedness overwhelming—or perhaps Akashi Masamoi’s presence was overwhelming in and of itself. When the man returned, his shoes clicked against the hardwood floor in a ruthless stride. 

“I’ve disabled the Wi-Fi, Seijuro. Your driver informed me that your mid-terms are coming up. Work on studying for those, and I also expect you to be able to recite the first three chapters of _Art of War_ by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes, Father.”

Masaomi stopped on the stair and then glanced over his shoulder, and Kuroko thought his heart would beat out of his chest. But Masaomi’s eyes landed just to the left of Kuroko. “Seijuro, are you eating…a burger?”

Akashi’s hands clenched behind his back, the only visible indication of his apprehension. “Yes. Teriyaki, sir.”

“I expect better from you, Seijuro.” He retreated to the elevator. “I’m sending the concierge up to blanch some fresh vegetables, and I’ll be donating the tofu soup the maid cooked to a homeless kitchen. Perhaps someone there will appreciate the gourmet offerings she cooked for you.”

The elevator doors closed then, allowing Akashi’s shoulders to loosen and his strong façade to crumble. He didn’t quite collapse to the ground, but he definitely fell part of the way. Perhaps the only positive aspect of that conversation was that Masaomi hadn’t noticed Kuroko, but a part of Kuroko inflamed on Akashi’s behalf. He should have stood up to Masaomi for Akashi’s sake, though Kuroko _knew_ that wouldn’t have helped Akashi. 

How could someone be so cruel to his own son?

“I’m…sorry you had to see that,” Akashi finally spoke some time later, and Kuroko could think of nothing else to do but lean over the table and press his lips against Akashi’s. 

It was a pathetic kiss with little heat and even less movement, and Kuroko pulled away quicker than he had leaned in. Akashi’s lips had been warm and smooth, sending chills of self-crimination down Kuroko’s spine as he thought of his own cold, chapped mouth. His cheeks burned while Akashi’s, in return, showed a pale but sudden pink tinge, and they both shied away from eye contact for the first time since they’d met each other. 

“Thank you…for the book, Seijuro-kun. I appreciate you thinking of me.”

“Thank you, Tetsuya-kun,” though he didn’t specify for what. Kuroko thought it have been for helping him live. 

*^*^*

“I do not know what you are thinking, but this is insane.” 

“For a supposed shadow, you are quite loud.”

“Do not change the subject, Seijuro-kun. I cannot do this.”

“That doesn’t sound like the Tetsuya-kun I know, the one who refused to give up basketball.”

Kuroko shifted his weight onto his back foot, even as he stared rancorously at the smirking Akashi. “Be that as it may, developing a particular style of play is not akin to riding a wild animal.”

“Yukimaru is not a wild animal,” Akashi protested, gloved hand running up and down the side of the majestic horse’s head in an affectionate manner. “He is my horse, and I have trained him well.”

Kuroko heard the stiff offense Akashi took to his flippant remark and conceded the matter with a rather loud sigh. He pointedly ignored the look of triumph upon the older teen’s face. 

“I’ll hold Yukimaru’s head while you step on the mounting block,” Akashi explained, now rubbing the snout of his beloved horse. “Then place your left foot in the left stirrup—good—and swing your other leg over Yukimaru’s back and into the right stirrup—perfect.”

“Stop laughing,” Kuroko chastised, giving the horse a quasi-hug as he lay almost horizontal upon Yukimaru’s back. 

Akashi didn’t, but he tried to suppress it as he instructed Kuroko on how to balance upon the horse and rest his weight on his seat bones. 

“Squeeze the horse with your legs like you’re hugging him, knees turned inward—good. Now take the reins in your left hand and keep your right hand in front of the saddle.”

“Wait, Seijuro-kun. Won’t Yukimaru need you to—”

“It’s fine, Tetstuya-kun. I’m right here,” Akashi insisted with that tender smile that made Kuroko calm instantly. “I’m going to walk beside you, and since it’s dark, we’re only going to complete a few laps around the enclosure.”

Kuroko nodded, tentatively taking the reins from Akashi, and as they traversed the small grassy area, he almost cracked a smile. He finally did when Akashi climbed upon Yukimaru in one fluid motion—the show-off—and galloped about the area, his own radiant smile outshining the evening moonlight. Yes, Kuroko had definitely done the right thing, hurrying after practice to convince Driver to take them to the stables. After all, Kuroko could not stand one more Friday night with Akashi staring longingly at his horse’s picture on his iPhone. 

Of course, he regretted it the very next day when he woke up to pains in the ass—literally—and a snickering Akashi who ordered the whole team to run suicides. But Kuroko got his revenge that day in the most nefarious of ways. As they exited the building—their whole team now, as Akashi had taken to walking with them to the Teikou gates—Aomine glared down at Kuroko with a disgruntled stare, like Kuroko’s limp personally offended him. 

“Hey, Tetsu, what’s wrong with you?” he demanded in his usual brash demeanor. 

They were almost to the car, and Driver was definitely within hearing distance. “I’m sore from horseback riding with Seijuro-kun last night before our sleepover.”

They always used their proper names in public settings, so Kuroko could already feel the heat of Akashi’s incensed glare prickling upon the back of his neck for the intentional slip. 

“Sleepover?” Kise perked up, fluttering between him and Akashi, arms thrown over both their shoulders and drawing them close. “You went over Kurokocchi’s house last night, Akashicchi, and neither of you invited me!”

Akashi was so close now, Kuroko feared for his life, but he continued nonetheless, “No, we slept over Akashi-kun’s house last night.”

The universe screeched to a halt as every Miracle’s head swung toward their youngest pair. 

Ironically, Midorima was the first to recover, sputtering, “Akashi, you allowed _Kuroko_ over your house? Your signs do not even have the best compatibility. ”

Kuroko doubted the others could tell just how uneasy—because Akashi was never unhinged, or so Kuroko pretended to believe—their captain was by the conversation, but he kept his expression cool and composed. 

“Kuroko invited himself to my apartment—” He must have purposefully left out how many weeks ago, so as not to hurt the others’ feelings. “—and I felt it rude to deny his presence because his air sign can be used to create fire.”

Point, Akashi.

“Well, if Tetsu can invite himself, so can I!” Aomine declared, slapping his hand down upon Akashi’s crown like he usually did Kuroko. “I’m coming over tonight.”

“I refuse your presence,” Akashi said bluntly, and though he scowled, he didn’t eject Aomine’s hand. 

“Yes, I do believe tonight is not a good time for Akashi-sama, but how about next Friday?” Driver chimed in at just the right moment, startling Akashi. “You should invite all your friends, Akashi-sama, except perhaps Momoi-chan. I do not question your chivalry, but she is definitely a security risk of some sort.” 

Kuroko tried to hide his smile with his sleeve as Akashi’s cheeks bloomed that cute pink color, much like Momoi’s hair. 

“Eh…?” Aomine whipped around and stared down at Akashi. “You got a thing for Satsuki?”

“Nothing more than you, I assure you,” Akashi pacified Aomine with a pat on the ace’s shoulder and walked toward Driver, granting the man nothing less than his most scathing glare. He then turned it on Kuroko, who plastered on a blank expression, though he knew Akashi could tell he was laughing inside. 

And he was. Hysterically. 

Akashi let out a resigned sigh. “Fine.”

“Whoo-hoo!” Kise cheered while Murasakibara yawned and shoved his hand back into his bag of chips. “There better be snacks, Aka-chin.”

Midorima hmphed and pushed up his glasses, neither confirming nor denying the invitation, though Kuroko knew that meant he would attend. 

Aomine folded his fingers behind his head with a devious grin. “I’ll bring the entertainment.”

“Leave the magazines at home, Aomine-kun,” Driver replied with the sharp edge of reprimand, and Aomine grumbled under his breath but conceded. 

_To Be Continued..._


	3. Security Risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, Hozumii, my Akashi!

The following week, Kuroko watched Akashi closely as the entire Generation of Miracles stepped out of the elevator and surveyed the apartment. He was the only one who bowed and muttered, “Sorry for the intrusion,” but Aomine nodded with obvious regard, impressed. 

“Not bad. Not bad at all, Akashi. You should be hosting our playoff meals, not Midorima.”

“My parents make sure we have well-balanced—”

“Mush,” Kise laughed, throwing his arm about Akashi’s shoulders and drawing him close. “This is total and complete swank! Your dad has taste.”

“And is loaded,” Aomine added. 

“Well, yes,” Akashi agreed too quickly. “He runs an international conglomerate with headquarters in twelve nations and—”

Kuroko stepped in then, touching the edge of Akashi’s elbow. “—and he is a very busy man. We are grateful he has allowed us the hospitality of his only son and heir.”

Akashi offered a tentative smile, a silent “thank you” for Kuroko’s interceding. 

“Not a bad selection, Aka-chin,” Murasakibara mumbled through a stuffed mouth as he ambled out of the kitchen. When he’d disappeared inside, Kuroko had even missed, but now he exited into the living area, shoving his mouth full of bars and chips. 

Akashi eyed him suspiciously, but then Midorima took their jackets and hung them in the adjoining closet. Aomine collapsed onto the middle of the couch, arms running the length of the spine, legs out in front of him like an upside-down V. Murasakibara took to the floor, though Kise and Kuroko sat on opposite sides of the couch. Midorima finally claimed the chair next to Kise, while they left the chair next to Kuroko empty. 

Akashi headed into the kitchen—to warm up tofu soup, no doubt—but Kuroko followed to help with everything else. And he didn’t want to miss the look of surprised joy when Akashi saw the stacks of junk food—pizza, chips, chicken wings, red bean soup, onion gratin soup, and loads more, heaped upon the miles of counter space. There was even a burger bar—teriyaki sauce and cheese with all the trimmings, plus a mineral water tasting area. 

Akashi turned to Kuroko, eyes questioning and demanding simultaneously, and Kuroko grinned. “Concierge-san is very helpful when given a list, and Maid-san was kind enough to set everything up for us.” He paused for a moment but eventually decided the next part was necessary. “You have a family, Seijuro-kun. Maybe not the one you want or the one you should have, but it’s one that cares for you just the same.”

Akashi opened his mouth, his crimson eyes not wet but tender all the same, but before he could say anything, Aomine’s offensively loud voice blared through the kitchen doorway. “Food’s in here, guys! And damn! Akashi decided to spoil us!”

After they piled their plates and settled back in the living room, Aomine grumbled about Driver taking his DVDs from his overnight bag. “He said no magazines. He said nothing about movies.”

But in the end they decided on the recent yakuza flick and a few basketball quarters before Kise suggested they break out the PlayStation or Wii. 

“I’ll beat you all on the karaoke games,” Kise whined as he went through Akashi’s entertainment cabinet. “Akashicchi, where’s your PlayStation?”

Akashi replied like it was normal, “I don’t have one.”

Every head, except Kuroko’s, whipped toward him. “Akashi, how can you not have a PlayStation?” Aomine gasped. 

“Eh? So Aka-chin only plays the iPhone version of Candy Crush?” Murasakibara asked, shoving Swedish Fish into his mouth. (Apparently, Concierge had brought a ton of it.) 

Akashi was polite, of course, not correcting Murasakibara—he never played Candy Crush—and stood. “Perhaps you all would enjoy playing a round of shogi or—”

Midorima sighed dramatically and leaned over the arm of his chair to dig into his overnight bag. He lifted up his PlayStation. “Oha Asa said Sagittarius might need a helping hand from a Cancer today.”

Kise clapped his hands, overjoyed. “Bonsai! I brought the karaoke games and my lucky microphone! Midorimacchi, be proud of me!”

“Your microphone is surely cursed…unless you are always aiming to be off-key.”

“Murasakibara-kun, will you be singing?”

“Mah. How can I sing with my mouth full of snacks?”

“That’s alright. I’ll do it!”

“Please do not, Aomine.”

“Shut up, Midorima! Or better yet, you can go first.”

“Surely not.”

“Akashi-kun, why don’t you start with Kise?” Kuroko finally offered with a coaxing smile. 

Akashi blinked at him, looking rather cozy tucked in the chair, but the slight rounding of his eyes and thin line in the middle of his forehead showed his uncertainty. Perhaps it hadn’t even occurred to Akashi that someone would ask him to start the game, but he recovered quickly, standing. 

“I accept this challenge.”

Kise gulped but handed over the microphone, and thus the game begun. 

Apparently with violin lessons came singing lessons, and Akashi defeated them one after another. Kise truly couldn’t hit the notes while the Kit-Kats muffled Murasakibara’s voice. Kuroko’s voice came through blank and unmoving, though Aomine, ironically, gave a good showing, despite his tone-deaf and uncoordinated movements. He almost hit the notes and even gave an entertaining dance along with his song. Kuroko would have guested he was drunk, but they only had mineral water and some sport drinks in the house. 

Midorima was the only one who truly gave Akashi a run for his money with a soft, soulful melody—until he squeaked from the water balloon that broke upon his chest. He fumed, shouting Kuroko’s name, before dashing after him. Aomine tripped him before he could catch Kuroko, and the Epic Water Balloon Fight of Teikou began. 

Hiding in the hallway closet, waiting for Kise to exit the bathroom, Kuroko intruded on a private moment as Akashi exited the den. He looked left, then right, and despite the situation, despite the water balloon ready and able to connect with its victim, the nervous bunch of his shoulders smoothed. 

And he smiled. 

It quickly fell when Aomine exited his room, holding up a very familiar case. “Hey, Akashi! You play?”

For some reason, the conversation drew everyone from their perspective hiding spots—Murasakibara and Kise from the bathroom, Midorima from the extra bedroom, and Kuroko from the closet—as Akashi nodded. 

“Yes.”

“Play us a lullaby, Aka-chin,” Murasakibara encouraged, dropping his water balloon with a plop to the floor. 

Akashi glanced up at Murasakibara, as if weighing the request, before snatching his case from Aomine. “I refuse.”

“Are you not good at it, Akashicchi?” Kise asked, stepping dangerously close to hugging range. “It’s okay not to be good at something.”

Akashi bristled, but Kuroko spoke up for him. “Akashi-kun plays beautifully, but tonight is for fun. Let’s finish the second movie.” 

“Fine. You don’t have to play for us now if you don’t wanna, but if you have a recital or something coming up— _Whhhhhaaaaat?_ ” Aomine drawled, annoyed at his friends’ incredulous stares. “Come on, guys. I know some music and shit.”

Stupid, classless, loveable Aomine. Somehow he was the worst and best of them. To him, team meant something more than just players you shared the court with. They were friends, true and through, and despite all of Kuroko’s attempts, Aomine found a way to coax Akashi out of the shadow of his father’s hold. 

“I…do have a concert coming up in a few weeks.”

Kise cheered, “Sounds like fun, Akashicchi! We’ll all go.”

Murasakibara grumbled, “Eh? Too troublesome.”

“We’ll get you snacks. Tetsu, can you get Murasakibara those special bars he likes?”

Kuroko nodded. “I’ll buy them this week.”

Akashi, finally, took the bait. “Midorima, the song I would like perform has a piano component. Would you be willing to accompany me?”

Midorima was startled, obviously touched by Akashi’s request, and bowed formally. “Of course, Akashi. I would be honored to join you.”

“Good.” Akashi then broke his water balloon upon Aomine’s chest, much to the ace’s protest and his totally-girlish shriek. “Let’s follow Kuroko’s suggestion and finish the movie. I believe I saw some desserts in the refrigerator we may enjoy.” 

They ended up camped out on the living floor, Aomine having taken the entire couch, spreading out with his mouth open and snoring quite loudly, while Murasakibara was sprawled across most of the floor. Kise slept in one of the recliners, legs thrown over an armrest, head lying upon the other, while Midorima passed out, practically sitting up in his chair. 

Kuroko and Akashi left them for Akashi’s bedroom and his softer-than-soft mattress, and as Kuroko came out of the bathroom, Akashi waited on the edge of his bed in a fresh T-shirt. 

“Seijuro-kun?” He approached, breath hitched and concern in his eyes, but then Akashi stood, hand coming up to cup his cheek. He never saw Akashi hesitate before, his eyes so uncertain, but then Akashi’s warm lips found Kuroko’s this time, pressing at first tentatively, testing to see Kuroko’s response. Before he could pull away completely, Kuroko lunged, fusing their mouths together once more. 

The embrace lasted longer this time, Akashi’s hand never slipping from its gentle hold upon Kuroko’s face, Kuroko’s landing somewhere on Akashi’s chest, clutching the front of his shirt. Their lips moved in a sloppy, clumsy kiss, and an eager nervousness tingled in the pit of Kuroko’s stomach. Something fierce and addictive pooled in his belly. 

When Akashi pulled away, his eyes now sparkled, spilling a myriad of emotions even Kuroko wasn’t sure how to interpret. As his heart fluttered in an uneasy but excited rhythm, Kuroko pressed his hand to his numb lips—to cover the sudden need to smile like an idiot—but then Akashi took his hand, holding it between his own. 

“You were wrong, Tetsuya-kun.” Akashi’s words are anything if not gentle. “I miss my mother greatly, but the family I have is the one I adore. And I hold them in my heart just the same.”

They slept that night as they did most Friday nights, in Akashi’s bed, hand in hand. 

*^*^*

Kuroko noticed it perhaps later than Akashi, but if he did so, it was not much later. But it was still too late. 

Aomine, who had encouraged Kuroko to continue playing, who lured Kise to basketball, who was perhaps the most motivating player Kuroko had ever known, was fading, too. He pulled away from their tight clique with apathetic shrugs and a lost smile, and even before Kuroko had time to realize what was happening, Akashi was struggling, trying as hard as he might to hold their family together.

_”You don’t seem very excited!”_

_“Actually, why are you excited?”_

_“We always win.”_

_“Winning is good. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing. That’s what I’d like to say, but I do have one suggestion. The team is strong. Once our victory is certain, we become unmotivated. So I’m assigning a quota. Each man must score twenty points per game.”_

_“Why not? Sounds fun. Right, Aominecchi?”_

_“Sounds like a pain in the ass.”_

_“Huh? You’re not into the idea? Normally you’re all over this kind of stuff.”_

_“Who cares, as long as we win?”_

_“I don’t like having to do this, either, but frankly, you seem especially unmotivated. When scorers don’t care about earning points, it affects team morale.”_

_“Fine. You want to score, right?”_

It wasn’t long after that, Aomine began skipping practices. It broke Kuroko’s heart, and he couldn’t hide it as well as he thought one Friday as he picked at his meal in front of the large picture window. 

“It’s worse for you since he’s your best friend,” Akashi observed, voice forceful but low.

“It’s more than that,” Kuroko replied, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to say until the words came. “Aomine-kun told me not to give up. He said that if I did, then nothing would happen. And then you came and gave me hope.”

Akashi’s fingers were warm and comforting, entwined with his. “You created your own basketball, Tetsuya-kun.”

“Yes, but it was Aomine who saved me, Seijuro-kun. Why can’t I save him?”

“We haven’t lost them— _him_ yet. We’ll reach him, Tetsuya-kun. I promise, and then you’ll save Aomine just like you need to.”

The unconscious slip troubled Kuroko, who realized what Akashi saw. It started with Aomine, but eventually, the others would pull away, too. They were strong players, all with extraordinary powers. How could they—a little rich boy and a not-even-decent player—have any hopes of keeping up? Akashi excelled in dribbling and other ball handling skills, but his height would be a detriment. He just wasn’t built to be a basketball player, and Kuroko—his hands clutched into tight fists. He knew his limitations. 

How could they not be left behind?

When Kuroko turned back to Akashi, a surprised gasp escaped from his lips a second before Akashi pressed his warm ones against Kuroko’s again. The warmth of Akashi’s hand never faded against Kuroko’s as they deepened the kiss and soft sounds slipped free from Kuroko’s mouth. He was positively breathless when Akashi finally released him from the tantalizing embrace. 

“As long as I have you, I’ll survive,” Akashi admitted in a low, gutted whisper, dusting kisses along Kuroko’s jaw. “As long as I have you…” he repeated, hands coming to clutch Kuroko’s shoulders and pull him against Akashi’s stifling heat. 

But Kuroko couldn’t—wouldn’t—break the hold as he heard the words Akashi couldn’t say. 

_Don’t leave me. Never leave me._

They were only fourteen, but Kuroko clutched back just as strongly, pressing his own kiss to Akashi’s neck, over his pulse point. 

“Yes.”

*^*^*

Driver warned them as soon as they exited the gates of Teikou, but Kuroko refused to leave Akashi’s side on this Friday.

“A formal dinner? To celebrate the opening of the Kyoto headquarters?” Akashi asked in the car on the way to the apartment. “It makes no sense. Father would have informed me of any social responsibilities. There is absolutely no way he would not have.”

“I do not believe it is for the new headquarters, Akashi-sama.” 

“Then I do not know for what it could possibly be.”

Once they arrived, Driver stopped Kuroko with a hand upon his shoulder. “I was wrong, Kuroko-kun, and for that I apologize.”

Kuroko stopped, dreading the truth he already knew. “I do not understand, Driver-san.”

“I said when I met you that you were not a security risk, and you were—you _are_. And my mistake will cost Akashi-sama deeply, I fear.”

Akashi waited for Kuroko at Concierge’s desk before they rode to the penthouse, and only then did Kuroko understand the depth of Driver’s words. 

Masaomi met them at the elevator, dressed in his absolute best. The dinner was so formal, only a white bowtie would do. The wet bar, usually closed and empty, was stocked with top-shelf liquors and manned by a jacketed bartender. Sky blue and white linens decorated the dining room table, which shimmered with gold utensils, and a waitress and a chef fluttered in and out of the kitchen, preparing the meal and placing the final touches on the hors d’oeuvres. 

Kuroko stayed a step behind Akashi, the captain’s dominating presence more than enough to let Kuroko fade into the background. 

“Father,” Akashi greeted, though it sounded cold and stiff, the very opposite of how Kuroko would address his own parents. 

Masaomi glanced down at Akashi, eyes fierce and dark, before returning his attention to his phone. “You are late, Seijuro. If basketball is interfering with your other commitments, perhaps you should not continue with it.”

“Akashis do not quit, and I was unaware dinner would be formal tonight.”

“Yes, well…hurry up and get dressed. Our guests will be arriving shortly.”

“For what?”

“My fiancée!” Akashi’s strained voice echoed from inside the bathroom while Kuroko sat, legs dangling off Akashi’s fluffy bed. To anyone else, Akashi would probably have sounded mildly annoyed, but Kuroko knew that tone meant Akashi was hysterical. “I knew my father was…in negotiations for my future partner, but I didn’t know he had completed them.”

Kuroko spread his hand across the pillow on Akashi’s right side of the bed, the pillow he used when he slept over. He loved laying down on this bed because it smelled like Akashi, of his cologne and his own unique scent. 

Akashi still chatted from the bathroom, more talkative than usual, but Kuroko could no longer hear the words. A deep ache smoldered in his chest and drowned out his surroundings, though he wondered why. Akashi and he weren’t a couple. They shared the occasional private display of affection. They smiled and laughed, but Kuroko did that with their entire team. And it wasn’t like he didn’t know Akashi’s status. Yes, perhaps he wasn’t privy to his current engagement, but there was no way Akashi’s father would ever approve of him as a potential partner for his only son and heir. 

Akashi Seijuro was destined for greatness. If he didn’t become a world-renowned shogi player, then he’d certainly become a household name through his father’s company, and he, in turn, would one day entrust the company to his son or daughter. 

And they were fourteen years old. He wasn’t even sure how to ask someone out or even kiss them properly, and Akashi was already engaged. 

Intensely warm fingers trailed the line of his jaw before stopping under his chin. “Tetsuya-kun, there is no need to be depressed. My father said that I won’t marry until I’m twenty-one, and—”

The simmering ache exploded in a raw, inflamed anger. “What have you been doing?” 

Akashi stepped back, head cocked to the side to examine Kuroko while Kuroko took in Akashi’s pristine white dress shirt, his loose white bowtie, and his sharply-pressed slacks. He looked absolutely handsome, and if Kuroko wasn’t so infuriated, he would have been dizzy. 

“I do understand your meaning, Tetsuya-kun.”

“You are engaged, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi flinched, as if physically stung by the formal address. “But as I said, I’m not to be married—”

“You are already committed to someone.” Kuroko’s voice rose no louder than a whisper. “You should not be…doing the things you have been doing with me.”

“We’ve shared a bed during sleepovers. That’s nothing seven-year-olds don’t do.”

“We’ve kissed.”

“And that is all. We are still quite innocent.”

“So you were…what? Entertaining yourself with me?” Kuroko pretended not to hear how pathetic that sounded. “I was to be your placeholder until you turned twenty-one and are married.”

“There is no guarantee that I will stay engaged to this person until then,” Akashi dismissed. “Her family could fall from favor. She, herself, can give into depravity, and to be quite honest, Tetsuya-kun, who’s to stay we’d be together in seven years? We are not even together now.”

 _But you asked me to never leave you._

No, Kuroko realized. Akashi had said _as long as I have you,_ but in what capacity? As a friend? A sleepover buddy? Something more intimate that would never be enough?

Kuroko stood then and gathered his bookbag and night bag. “Yes, you are correct, Akashi-kun. Please excuse my intrusions these last few months.”

The warm fingers enclosed upon his wrist. “Tetsuya-kun, wait.” 

Kuroko did.

“I do…care for you,” Akashi murmured, so close Kuroko felt his body heat against his back. “These past few months, you’ve showed me something I could never have imagined. After my mother, I…” His soft voice intensified; his hand tightened. “I don’t want you to go. Stay tonight, like you do every Friday night. Please.”

Akashi’s voice was so raw and pained, but Kuroko could only muster, “I will stay...at least until you go to dinner. I cannot promise more than that.”

“No!” Akashi’s hands then clutched Kuroko’s shoulders, shocking the younger man with their startling strength, and when Kuroko met Akashi’s wide and wild eyes, he thought one glowed. 

Kuroko never saw Akashi so desperate, so uncontrolled, and he reached up, somehow touching Akashi’s hands on his shoulders. 

Akashi’s tension deflated then, his hands loosening. He finished getting dressed, slipping on his jacket and styling his hair with a dab of gel and a comb. His attired looked far more sophisticated than any style Kuroko had seen Akashi wear, and as Kuroko waited, feeling very, very lost and thrown aside, Akashi caged him against the bed, arms on either side of Kuroko’s thighs, and offered him a gentle but very thorough kiss, one that curled Kuroko’s toes and plummeted his stomach. 

Kuroko thought it was an apt good-bye kiss. 

Akashi left after two rapid knocks on the door—his father’s assistant, no doubt—and promised to return as soon as the dinner was over, but Kuroko wouldn’t be there when he did. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe that Akashi wouldn’t want him there, only that there was no purpose. Akashi would never disobey his father—not outright or viciously—and continuing as they were, would only harm them both. Eventually, if they investigated whatever this thing—which didn’t even have a proper title—was between them, Akashi would be forced to end it or choose him over his father and legacy, which also included his cherished mother. 

Kuroko came to stand at the end of the hallway, watching as Akashi sat properly next to a beautiful young woman, smiling when necessary, answering when asked, accepting his fate with nothing more than the tight clasp of his hands in his lap. He excelled in the world of prestige and wealth, as he excelled in all parts of life, and Kuroko failed time and time again, first with his own basketball, now with Aomine. He wouldn’t fail with Seijuro, too. 

He was a shadow, a reflection, the absence of light, while Akashi was an emperor who harnessed the strongest of them.

Kuroko could never be a worthy partner for His Majesty. 

As he left the sanctuary of the hallway for the finality of the elevator, he thought he felt the prickle of Akashi’s gaze upon his back and longed to know what his expression was—sad, hurt, relieved, perhaps? 

No one else would notice him, not the guests and certainly not Akashi’s bride-to-be, with his weak presence now even more potent. Kuroko felt like he was fading away, but he didn’t dare turn. He didn’t think he could leave if he did. 

But if he had, he might have seen the small but contented smirk upon Masaomi’s face before Akashi’s father clasped his hands together and suggested the party retire to the dining room for dinner. 

_To Be Continued..._


	4. Seijuro-kun and Tetsuya-kun

Kuroko thought nothing hurt as emotionally or physically—even Teikou’s practices—as that first Friday night. He’d lay awake half of it, mourning Akashi’s intense warmth against his hand, something that seemed to reflect in all the parts that made up Akashi Seijuro. He was intense—perhaps subdued and composed—but always, always intense, like a resting lion awaiting its next hunt. 

And Kuroko felt comfortable, wrapped in that fiery hold, like the emperor’s sheer presence could save him from the shadows. After all, while Aomine encouraged Kuroko not quit, it had been Akashi who had helped him to success, to excel, to live in the shadows but to enjoy the light. 

Which was perhaps why it hurt so much to be scorned by the light, even if he’d been the one who had harmed it first. 

Akashi didn’t text Kuroko that night, and at Saturday morning practice, he greeted Kuroko with a smooth but cold smile, accented with a flippant, “Did you have a good night?”

It was like they’d never been anything more than teammates, maybe not even good friends, like the last eight months and the kisses and “Seijuro-kun” and last night’s fight _and the engagement_ never happened. 

“No,” Kuroko admitted. “I did not have a good night. You?”

“As well as to be expected, I suppose.” He glanced around Kuroko and nodded to the Coach at the end of the court. “You should start stretching now. We’ll be running suicides in a few.”

With every step Akashi took away from Kuroko, it felt as if a little piece of him died. 

*^*^*

Kuroko tried to ignore the guilt that rose in him every time he looked at Akashi and his orange eye. Perhaps they lost Aomine first, but Kuroko always had faith that the captain could bring their ace back. Eventually. Somehow. They would find that opponent that Aomine desperately sought, someone who could go shot-for-shot with him and _beat him_ , and then Aomine would come back to their family. 

But Midorima began to shoot from half-court and Kise’s copying skills became almost perfect, and Murasakibara followed Aomine’s example. As long as they won, did it matter if they practiced? Winning was everything—to Akashi, to the school. They lost sight of what made winning so enjoyable. 

Or perhaps Akashi knew that truth and discovered he couldn’t win with the ones he most wanted— _the one_ he most wanted. 

Less than a week after Kuroko and Akashi’s “not-really-but-kinda-sorta” break-up, Aomine ran out of practice, and Akashi refused to lose again, this time to Murasakibara. But the captain let Murasakibara go, and the others, because the team, his family, Akashi himself, broke. 

It was like looking at different person, whom Kuroko dubbed in his mind “Akashi-san,” and Kuroko shuttered inside as he listened to the chilling words. 

“Once a place cracks, it will never be whole again, but as long as it’s still useful, things are fine as they are.” 

“Akashi-kun?” _Seijuro-kun?_ “What are you talking about? No, _who_ are you?”

The sickening sweet smile that met him was not the one he fell asleep to on Friday nights. “I’m Akashi Seijuro, of course.”

Kuroko was fading, fading fast, and there was no light to shine upon him. The shadows pulled him farther and farther into the darkness, into the abyss that was Teikou, and he missed the warmth in of Aomine’s smile, of Akashi’s hands and eyes. 

When the road by the Teikou gates was empty after practice that next Friday, Kuroko went to Akashi’s apartment building, only for Concierge to look as distraught as Kuroko felt. 

“Sorry, Kuroko-kun, but Akashi-sama accompanied his father to Kyoto this week.”

Eventually Akashi found him, in the gym trying to shoot and failing like usual, but the conversation confirmed something. Where Seijuro loved to play basketball, Akashi-san liked to win. And Akashi-san indeed had changed, and the team followed him. 

“This again?” Akashi scoffed. “I haven’t changed. I always had two personalities. The other simply took over.”

Perhaps that was true. The night of their “break-up,” Kuroko caught a glimpse of Akashi-san. 

“But if you call that change,” Akashi continued, “then I say it was necessary. The team didn’t change because I changed. I changed because the team changed.”

Yes, that was true, and something within Kuroko broke as well. He could have stopped this. If he had been stronger, if he had stayed that night and hadn’t left Akashi alone with his father, in that world of prestigious but imprisonment, maybe…maybe Akashi wouldn’t have broken. Maybe they could have kept their family together. 

_Seijuro-kun…why?_

In return, Akashi-san led the Generation of Miracles and trampled on his promise to Ogiwara, and Kuroko wished he didn’t know why. Even though he asked, “Why did you do that?” 

Akashi-san’s eyes replied, _Because you broke our promise. You said he would never leave, and you did._

He answered out loud, however, “We simply controlled the game.” _The way I couldn’t control you._ “Our players were far more focused than if they were trying to score.”

_But that day’s victory pained me more than any failure. Even if there was no other way, I don’t want to feel that way again. So I’m quitting basketball._

“I wish you wouldn’t quit,” Mochida said on Meikou’s grounds. “You have the same eyes we have.” 

Kuroko’s heart thumped in a heavy beat as he heard Ogiwara’s words, _I was too shocked to say anything, but there is still warmth left in Kuroko’s eyes. I was powerless against those icy eyes, but Kuroko can face them again and melt them someday._

Warmth, like Akashi’s hands, his kind smile, his soft lips. That was the warmth that remained in Kuroko’s eyes, and he’d use it to thaw Akashi-san’s heart. 

_What is victory?_

Akashi-san sought him out after graduation, and Kuroko couldn’t stop his stomach from fluttering with an anxious tingle. “Do you have your answer?” 

Kuroko raised his chin. “Not yet, but I won’t run anymore. That much I’ve decided.” 

But Kuroko couldn’t find the answer by himself. He never faded completed, but he teetered on the edge of the shadows. One push—would it be from Midorima or Kise?—no, it was from Aomine, his former best friend, who almost kicked him into the abyss, but sweet, simple, strong Kagami grabbed his wrist and tugged him back with his own warmth. Then weekend nights were spent at another apartment, much smaller but not much different from the one he’s known. Kind and warm, welcoming and wanting—Kuroko gained strength by finding a second family but not forgetting the first one, and he began recovering that which he lost—one by one, until all was missing was Seijuro. 

“Why didn’t you tell everyone?” Kagami asked, the night before the final tip-off. 

“I forgot, but it doesn’t matter now. I have my answer.” 

Kagami blushed, and Kuroko couldn’t help returning the smile. “We just have to show them our basketball now. Let’s show them our style and win the tournament.” 

The same style Teikou once had. A real team, a real family. 

_What is victory? I’ll show you when I win you back, Seijuro-kun._

*^*^* 

Akashi was still cold when they met on the court, throwing verbal barbs at Kuroko like he was a sure target, but over the last year, Kuroko rebuilt himself after Teikou, after their break-up. He was ready. He’d show Akashi what basketball represented and what the game meant to them all, including Seijuro. 

But then he met the new Phantom Sixth Man, Mayuzumi Chihiro, and he almost lost his way. He almost forgot he wasn’t fighting to win a game, but to prove the strength of bonds, of Seirin’s bond, and his and Kagami’s. 

His and Seijuro’s.

“I can’t bear to watch this folly,” Akashi-san remarked, ruthless and cruel. “How could you abandon your greatest strength?" 

Kuroko was too wounded by Mayuzumi’s sheer presence— _You replaced me?_ —to realize his greatest strength, in Akashi-san’s eyes, was being weak. 

“When you learned to shine dimly, you ceased being a shadow. No longer the Phantom Sixth Man, you’re worth less than the average player. And you didn’t notice until now. You disappoint me, Tetsuya.” 

Yes, he disappointed himself. Perhaps he was too weak to fight an emperor, but…Akashi said it himself. His weakness was his greatest strength, and perhaps—perhaps Seijuro was giving him a clue as to how to win. Like Seijuro guided him through pass variations, a calm teacher who helped him improve without telling him how to—perhaps if he retreated back to the shadows. Perhaps if he, too, reverted to the style he used to play in middle school, he could find the one he left back there. 

“Surely you’re not so optimistic that you think you can still win,” Akashi-san spat. 

Kuroko kept his emotions in checked, face calm though his eyes were fierce and ready for battle. “It’s not like that. I fight because I want to win.” 

_I saved the others, Seijuro-kun. I will save you, too._

And so he battled. He never reached the Zone—he wasn’t sure ever could—but he helped Kagami as best he could, supporting Kagami’s defense with his own quasi Emperor Eye. For the first time, he stopped Akashi’s drive. 

He stopped Akashi-san. 

The Rakuzan captain crumpled then, unable to stop Kagami, unable to even pass accurately, and Kuroko watched from afar, eyes hard, demanding. 

_Come back to me,_ they beckoned. 

Then, a time-out by Rakuzan. Akashi looked so devastated, so lost as the others muttered insults, much like Akashi-san had chastised them throughout the season. But they didn’t understand. They didn’t know the battle wasn’t happening on the court at the moment. It was happening inside Akashi Seijuro. 

Kuroko watched and waited and hoped. 

_We can't go back to being teammates. And what happens, the sins I've committed can't be erased. In that case, it would be best to shoulder the burden of my sins and continue onward as their enemy. I wonder if it's because my opponent is Kuroko...that I have the drive to continue playing. This urge to win is beyond my control._

Kuroko thought if the championship had been versus any of the other Miracles, Akashi would not have come back onto the court, but Kuroko wasn’t surprised. He was ready to finish this battle, but when Akashi brought up the ball, his rhythm, his movements were different but similar, familiar in a way. Kuroko kept his eyes upon the ball, ready to steal it after an Ankle Break, but Akashi opted for a spin dribble before bouncing the ball between his legs. 

Kuroko’s eyes rose, and Akashi met them with the intense warmth he’d been missing the last year. 

“It’s been awhile…Kuroko.” 

Yes, it certainly had been. 

Ultimately, it took everyone from Teikou and their respective teams, Seiho and Kirisaki Daīchi, and even Ogiwara to end the reign of Rakuzan and its emperor, but even though Akashi lost, Kuroko thought as he watched the tears fall from Akashi’s eyes that maybe, maybe he’d won, too. 

“It’s your…no, it’s your team’s win. Congratulations.” Seijuro put out his hand. “Also, prepare yourselves. Next time, we’ll be the victors.” 

Their hands touched, and Kuroko cupped both of Akashi’s in his, savoring the burning heat of Akashi’s skin again. He didn’t miss the subtle truth hidden in Akashi’s warning. 

They would meet again and play again…like they had in middle school. 

“Let’s play again,” Kuroko offered. “Again and again, as many times as you want.” 

_That’s right…over and over again…It’s not like this is the end of everything. In fact, it’s only the beginning. From now, we’ll be able to fight…as many times as we want. We’ll play the basketball we love…as much as we want from now on._

Kuroko smiled, tears in his own eyes, and then he tugged Akashi to him, arms curling about Akashi’s neck and holding him close. Akashi jolted, shocked by the sudden movement and tender embrace, but Kuroko grinned when he felt those strong arms wrap around him, that radiating heat stifling, but he didn’t dare pull away. He wouldn’t ever again. 

“Welcome back, Seijuro-kun,” he whispered. 

It took a moment, but Akashi pressed his face into Kuroko’s shoulder. “Thank you,” he replied, equally as soft, “…Tetsuya-kun.” 

*^*^* 

Akashi couldn’t ignore the buzz of anticipation that vibrated through his entire being that first Friday after the Winter Cup championship. He woke up feeling energized in a way he hadn’t in quite some time, and despite the pop quiz in history, the verbal exam in English, and the project presentation in biology, his good nature remained. Even Mibuchi kept a close eye upon him at lunch, the question just on the tip of his lips, but Akashi couldn’t describe it. He was…elated, perhaps even giddy with excitement. Yes, he was definitely “giddy.” 

__At basketball practice that evening, he ordered the team to run laps, full-court layouts, and suicides, and they hated him for it. Some of the first-years even puked, but Akashi couldn’t get that restless eagerness out of his system. He stayed late, working on a few dribbling techniques and passes, and he had all intentions of staying another hour or so when Mibuchi entered the gym, the doors clinking shut behind him._ _

__“A little one-on-one, Mibuchi-san?” Akashi offered, an earnest grin upon his face._ _

__Mibuchi’s face softened in a tender manner. “No, Sei-chan. I came to collect you. You should take shower and head to the dorms.”_ _

__“Why? I’m not yet done.”_ _

__“There’s a surprise waiting for you.”_ _

__The ball got away from Akashi then, bouncing down the side of the court. “Eh?”_ _

__He did as Mibuchi instructed, quickly showering and jogging back to the dorms. He wore a simple Rakuzan basketball T-shirt along with Adidas pants under his jacket, and if he had known what the surprise was, he would have styled his hair and dressed in nice slacks and a sweater. But one couldn’t blame even himself, the emperor, for not foreseeing this._ _

__Kuroko hadn’t texted or called. They hadn’t even talked following that night after the Winter Cup Final, and though Seijuro mourned Tetsuya’s absence a second time, he understood it. He had been brutal to Kuroko, who had done nothing less than saved him time and time again._ _

__So it made little sense for Kuroko to come see him this Friday. If Seirin was anything like Rakuzan, they’d have practice late tonight and first thing tomorrow. Kuroko would have to have been on the last train to Kyoto and then be up early tomorrow in order to be on the first train back to Tokyo. He’d spend less than twelve hours in the Rakuzan’s dorms with Akashi._ _

__(It was against the rules for any non-enrolled students to stay overnight in the dorms, but Akashi was going to ignore that for now.)_ _

__Still, Kuroko sat with his back leaning on Akashi’s dorm door, cross-legged with a book in his hand and an overnight bag next to him. When he looked up, Akashi felt his heart stop at the growing smile upon Kuroko’s pale features, and then Kuroko stood, bowing formally._ _

__“I apologize for the intrusion,” he muttered while Hayama replied from his own bedroom door, “Yeah, you do.”_ _

__“I believe you have a history mid-term to study for, Hayama-san,” Akashi chastised as he came forward, eyes never leaving Kuroko’s face._ _

__Kuroko noticed, a rather adorable flush coloring his cheeks._ _

__“That’s not until next week, and Reo-nee said he’d give me his notes—”_ _

__“Don’t implicate me in your devious study habits!”_ _

__“Enough.” Akashi silenced them and then reached down to pick up Kuroko’s bag. “It is late, and practice was hard today. It would be best for all of us to retire for the evening.”_ _

__“Hm,” Nebuya’s gruff voice scraped down the hall. “I was just about to get popcorn.”_ _

__“Ignore them,” Akashi interjected, opening his dorm room and motioning for Kuroko to enter. “They are mostly harmless, though you might lose an arm if you try to take some of Nebuya-san’s popcorn."_ _

__“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Kuroko said with a delightful little chuckle, and Akashi didn’t deny his heart the little twinge it gave._ _

__Nebuya huffed. “That was one time, Akashi! And I apologized!”_ _

__Though his gruff yell echoed, Akashi ignored it as he pushed Kuroko back against his door the moment it shut, not denying himself the pleasure he sought for the last year, pressing his lips against Kuroko’s cool ones._ _

__Following a startled gasp, Kuroko melted in his hold, and Akashi thoroughly enjoyed making Kuroko’s eyes roll back before they slid shut, and his entire body molded about Akashi’s like a piece of a puzzle snapping into place. The tiny moan from Kuroko was new but inviting, and Akashi delved into the offered greeting, his lower region burning against Tetsuya’s as sparkles tingled on the edge of their tongues._ _

__Akashi never wanted the embrace to end, but eventually, when Kuroko’s knees gave out, Akashi saved him from the floor by pressing his hip against Kuroko’s stomach. The intimate embrace and closeness threatened to beat Akashi’s heart out of his chest._ _

__“Being friends with Murasakibara-kun taught me a few things,” Kuroko managed, breathless. “I brought my own snacks. Swedish Fish and some tofu soup Kagami-kun made.”_ _

__Akashi almost took Kuroko’s mouth right then until he was within in an inch of his life. Instead, he muttered against those plush, refreshing lips, “I…I felt you were coming today, even though I did not expect you.”_ _

__Kuroko smiled, his emotions creating an enjoyable display upon his face. Akashi liked this new, animated Tetsuya. “I planned to come, but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make the last train.”_ _

__“You’ll stay tonight.” It wasn’t a question, but Kuroko answered nonetheless, a cool hand upon Akashi’s cheek._ _

__“Are you still engaged?”_ _

__Akashi’s hands fisted in Kuroko’s Seirin sweatshirt as he pressed his forehead against Kuroko’s cool one. He shut his eyes, so he wouldn’t have to see the overwhelming disappointment envelope that adorable face. “Technically…yes, but I told Father I would not marry her. I told him that I do not love her, and though he believes that love is not a reason to marry, I believe—”_ _

__“Shh…” Kuroko stopped his rushed speech with a kiss upon both his eyelids, coaxing Akashi’s eyes to his own endearing ones. “I’m staying tonight and every Friday night, and if we’re together in seven years, then we’ll decide what to do then. Right now, we’re sixteen, and…” Those cheeks burned a delightful shade of pink. “…kiss me, Sei-kun.”_ _

__That disarmingly cute smile, those rose cheeks upon that pale complexion, that mop of blue hair—Akashi didn’t need an invitation, though he preferred one just the same. He dove forward again, entwining his fingers with Kuroko’s and ravaging those pale lips until they were red and swollen. Now, he would admit just how much he’d missed his vanilla popsicle against him, keeping him comfortable and relaxed during the hot Tokyo nights._ _

__Nibbling on Kuroko’s bottom lip, Akashi enjoyed eliciting such raw emotions from Kuroko, and he did it again and again, sliding his hands up Kuroko’s sides to bring a shiver to the shadow. Oh, how’d he missed Kuroko, and he missed the promise of…something. He wasn’t sure what they actually had—a relationship, a future, just carnal wants—but Akashi couldn’t wait to find out._ _

__And he couldn’t wait to see just how excited he could get Kuroko, but first, he pulled away. His hands dropped to that slender waist._ _

__“Tetsuya-kun, there’s…there’s something I need to say.” He took a shuddering breath, but Kuroko didn’t rush him. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms about Akashi’s neck and waited patiently, chin dipped just enough to see into Akashi’s eyes. It gave Akashi the strength to continue, even though he could lose Kuroko with this confession._ _

__“There are two of me, Tetsuya-kun,” Akashi explained. “You know that. You’ve seen…him. And when he comes out—”_ _

__“I love Seijuro-kun,” Kuroko informed in crisp voice, leaving no room argument, and as if to prove his point, he leaned forward to peck Akashi’s lips. “And I love Akashi-san.” Another peck, this time a little longer. “They are both you, and I adore them equally.”_ _

__“But—But Tetsuya-kun—”_ _

__Another peck. “There is nothing wrong with being a little…assertive every so often. I find it quite…hot.”_ _

__Akashi thought his heart stopped beating then, especially with Kuroko’s eyes averted just so, his smile embarrassed and sheepish, his blush spreading to his neck._ _

__“Plus,” he added quickly and low, “I, too, have a confession to make.”_ _

__Before Akashi could even ask, a few quick but booming raps sounded on the door. “Kuroko, get out here! Nebuya and I were going to play some ball, but he has to eat and Hayama has to study. So that leave Mibuchi and Akashi versus you and me. Let’s go!”_ _

__“You brought Kagami with you?” Akashi accused._ _

__“Yeah, it’s me. Stop making out with my best friend, huh? I can hear you on the other side of the door.”_ _

__Kuroko was still blushing and smiling. “His father left him alone, too. I couldn’t leave him up in Tokyo moping.”_ _

__“Hey! I was fine!”_ _

__“You were moping like a wet kitten, Kagami-kun.”_ _

__“Kuroko, you bastard! Don’t go around calling me a kitten!”_ _

__“You are as adorable as one.”_ _

__“Huh?” Akashi blinked. “You find _him_ adorable?”_ _

__“Don’t worry, Sei-kun. I find you adorable, too, just in a different way.”_ _

__“Again, I can hear you guys out here.”_ _

__Akashi deflated then but kept his arms encircling Kuroko’s waist. “Perhaps it would be best to go out now.”_ _

__Whoever said Kuroko didn’t have a sense of humor was dead wrong. “To play basketball or as boyfriends?”_ _

__“Both.”_ _

__Kuroko leaned forward again and pressed his lips against Akashi’s. “Okay.”_ _

__As they walked out of the room, their fingers entwined in a loose knot, Akashi thought back to before that second national tournament, to nights filled with Swedish Fish and private concerts, burgers and pizza, friends and laughter, and—he needed to call Driver as soon as possible._ _

__They were out of vanilla popsicles._ _

__The End_ _

_Omake One:_  
On their second seventeenth sleepover, Kuroko and Akashi rested entangled on Akashi’s bed, Kuroko reading one of his novels, Akashi the finance section of the newspaper when a text jingled on Kuroko’s phone. The device sat on Akashi’s end table, while Kuroko toward the foot of the bed. So Akashi picked up the cell, ready to hand it to his boyfriend—it was probably Kagami, complaining that Mayuzumi wasn’t an adequate shadow and he wanted Kuroko to play with him and the rest of the Rakuzan regulars—when Akashi saw his boyfriend’s wallpaper. 

__He shot up in bed. “Tetsuya-kun, what is the meaning of this!”_ _

__Kuroko whined at the sudden loss of his heat source but then smiled a sheepish grin. “You mean the picture of you and Sei-chan?” Kuroko shrugged and rolled over, hand out for his phone. “I asked Mibuchi-san to help me get even.”_ _

__Akashi was sure his face was the color of his hair. “Tetsuya-kun, that’s not playing fair.”_ _

__Kuroko laughed—actually laughed. “Sei-kun was denying me even a peek at Sei-chan, and you’ve already seen Tet-chan. Plus ‘turnabout is fair play.’ ”_ _

__Akashi’s eyes sparkled. “Is it now?”_ _

__Kagami and all of Seirin refused to take pictures of Kuroko in any compromising positions, but Akashi knew he’d win eventually. After all, his father just acquired a few stores in Tokyo, and one of them happened to be a barber shop._ _

_Omake Two:_  
“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedding wife?” 

__Akashi looked at the figure in the white dressed with a thick veil, nothing but undeniable affection in his eyes._ _

__“Absolutely.”_ _

__“And do you take this man to be your lawfully wedding husband?”_ _

__The bride nodded._ _

__“Then with the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”_ _

__Akashi lifted up the veil then, and his father gasped as he saw Kuroko Tetsuya underneath there._ _

__But it was too late for him to do anything._ _

__After a long and thorough embrace, the organ played. Kagami and Reo threw confetti, and Akashi swept Kuroko off his feet._ _

__They lived happily ever after._ _


End file.
